Her Everything
by the moon of my life
Summary: That was it. Conquering the North would earn her allies and answer the question she's been asking herself since she left Qarth. Who was the solemn boy in her dreams?
1. chapter one

**This is my attempt at a _ASOIAF_ fic. Sorry if everything isn't absolutely accurate. I also will have another Jon/Dany fic coming up. Anyways, enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _ASOIAF_**

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**chapter one**

Her dream took her to, what she assumed was, a godswood.

At the center of the grove stood an ancient weirwood with a face carved into it, standing over a pool of black water. Three acres of old packed earth and close together trees created a dense canopy. It was beautiful, truly.

The weather was harsh and Daenerys regretted wearing her Dothraki clothing, but luckily all she felt was a shiver. Goose pimples washed over her, but ignored them as she drew closer to the heart tree.

"It's been untouched for 10,000 years," spoke a deepening voice. Dany whipped around to find a boy close to her age dressed in black garbs. "The godswood, I mean."

The boy wasn't as tall as Drogo once was, but he still stood taller than Daenerys. He was lean with a long, solemn face, dark grey eyes, and dark, thick hair. To Dany, he was a quiet type of handsome. _You must stare at his face long enough to see how comely he is,_ she thought, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling in her stomach.

"I know," she said, studying his face. "Who are you?"

"Just a bastard," he replied in a bitter tone. "I must ask, who are you?"

"Daenerys Stormborn, _khalessi_ to Khal Drogo's riders, and rightful heir to the Iron Throne."

He stared at her intently. Daenerys couldn't even read his expression, having no idea how he felt. Most men leered at her while others scoffed at the thought of a woman ruling the Seven Kingdoms. This boy was neither.

Walking over to her, he shrugged off his cloak and Daenerys was about to object, but paused when she felt the heavy furs cover her bare shoulders. She looked up and met his eyes, so dark that Dany nearly mistaken them for black.

Taking off his gloves, he showed her his right hand. Burned and scarred. Dany placed her hand against his burned one, their fingers intertwining. She shivered when she remembers the prophecies the House of the Undying had told her.

_"three fires must you light... one for life and one for death and one to love..."_

Dany wanted to pull away, afraid, but he brought her back into his arms.

"Do not be afraid," he murmured, his breath tickling her ear.

"I fear nothing," she declared then tilted her head so she could stare into his eyes. _You must look into his eyes, always_.

Their foreheads rested on each other, their breaths mingling together. Inching closer and closer, Dany finally closed the distance between them. Her heart was pounding with every soft kiss, her hands shaking when his arms pulled her as close as they possibly could.

"Daenerys..." he gasped out, panting. "Don't go."

"I won't leave you," Dany breathed, but could feel herself getting dragged out of her dream. "Tell me your name. Please..."

She woke up with a jolt, startling her handmaiden Irri. The bastard was gone, along with the godswood and freezing air. Dany could feel the ship she was on, swaying as it went across the sea.

"_Khalessi_, are you alright?" asked Irri, sounding worried.

"I'm fine," Daenerys lied, "Just a... a strange dream I had."

Daenerys could feel the throbbing between her legs. The boy, the solemn boy, was gone. He was definitely not from the Free Cities nor did he seem that much of a King's Landing type. The North? It would explain the heavy cloak he wore.

Why was she even thinking about this? He was gone and Daenerys had a mission to carry out. There was no time to dream of comely young men. Or, so she thought.

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**More to come. Hope you guys enjoyed this small chapter.**


	2. chapter two

**chapter two**

Going to Astapor would be dangerous, the march especially. Westeros was where she wanted to go, but her dragons weren't large enough yet. She was also naive when it came to ruling, but then, she could surround herself with people who were knowledgeable and devoted to her. Then again, most rulers weren't apt in governing a kingdom.

"What if Captain Groleo refuses to change course though? And Arstan, Strong Belwas, what will they do?"

Ser Jorah stood. "Perhaps it's time you found that out."

"Yes," she decided. Daenerys could at least explore Slaver's Bay, attempt to buy some Unsullied. "I'll do it! I'll see the captain at once, command him to set course for Astapor."

Daenerys opened her chest and hastily slid on her sandsilk trousers. She could feel Ser Jorah's dark eyes on her. It reminded her of the boy in her dreams. _A bastard he called himself_, she remembered.

"Hand me my medallion belt," she commanded Jorah as she adjusted her trousers. "And my vest -"

Ser Jorah snaked his arms around her. "Oh," was all Dany had time to say before he crushed his lips on hers.

He smelled of salt, sweat, and leather. The iron studs on his jerkin dug into her bare breasts as he crushed her hard against him. One hand held her by the shoulder while the other slid down her spine to the small of her back. _This is wrong_, Dany thought,_ he should be younger and his right hand should be burned_.

Just the thought of him made Daenerys tremble. Ser Jorah took it the wrong way and made the kiss longer and deeper. When it ended, he let go of her, and she took a quick step back.

"You... you should not have..."

"I should not have waited so long," he finished for her. "I should have kissed you in Qarth, in Vaes Tolorru. I should have kissed you in the red waste, every night and every day. You were made to be kissed, often and well."

Ser Jorah stared at her breasts. The boy from her dreams never did. Only her face, her eyes the most. Her heart ached for him while the area between her legs throbbed for his touch.

Dany covered her breasts with her hands, her face flushed. "I... that was not fitting. I am your queen."

"My queen," he said, "and the bravest, sweetest, and most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Daenerys -"

"_Your Grace_!" she snapped.

"Your Grace," he conceded, "_the dragon has three heads_, remember? You have wondered at that, ever since you heard it from the warlocks in the House of Dust. Well, here's your meaning: Balerion, Meraxes, and Vhagar, ridden by Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya. The three-headed dragon of House Targaryen - three dragons, and _three riders_."

"Yes," said Dany, "but my brothers are dead."

"Rhaenys and Visenya were Aegon's wives as well as his sisters. You have no brothers, but you can take husbands. And I truly, Daenerys, there is no man in all the world who will ever be half so true to you as me."

_Lies, he's telling sweet lies,_ Daenerys thought.

Her first love would always be Khal Drogo, her sun-and-stars. It felt wrong somehow to imagine herself with another man, especially one like Ser Jorah who was her beloved adviser. The only man she could see herself with was the bastard in her dreams.

"Thank you for loving me, Ser Jorah. You will always have a special place in my heart," she said gently. Jorah smiled hopefully. "... but I cannot return your love."

Ser Jorah looked broken. He muttered an excuse and left his queen. This wasn't how Dany wanted her night to turn out.

**.**

She dreamed of him again.

Dany found him in a cave, outside snowing and freezing. She had never seen snow before, but her attraction towards the solemn boy got the better of her. Her eyes widened when she noticed the pool inside the cave. Steam elevated from the water.

"Tell me your name," she commanded the boy who sat on the ground, leaning against a rock.

"Bastards don't have names," he replied easily before removing his cloak then the rest of his heavy clothes. "Care to take a dip with me, Daenerys?"

"I..." Before Daenerys knew it, her clothes had dissolved. She stood stark naked, but didn't try and cover her breasts or her private parts.

Her breath hitched when the dark-haired boy approached her, wearing nothing. His body was hard and lean, an arrow of dark hair led down to his manhood. When he looked up, Daenerys could feel her heart constrict from his boyish smile.

She took his hand and led him to the water. Dany loved how hot it was, but her lover didn't think so, wincing when he slid his lower half in the water. She sunk lower in the water, holding her breath for a few seconds before rising up.

He stared at her before cupping her face. "You're beautiful," he told her.

"So are you," she gasped, "I want you."

"As you wish," he murmured before pressing a hard, but passionate kiss onto her lips. His hands slid up and down her petite body.

Dany let out a startled moan when he sucked on the sensitive area behind her ear. Her breathing became shorter when she felt his rigid manhood rub against her mound. She wrapped her arms around his neck, one hand tangling itself in his hair while the other caressed his face.

The heat between her legs was overwhelming, nothing she had ever experienced before. He was panting, groaning her name like she was some Lysene goddess and he was on his knees praying for her. Dany loved every minute of it, going blind for a moment when she felt her climax drawing closer and closer.

She threw her head back screaming as they both came at the same time. It was devastatingly wondrous. Not because she enjoyed him being _inside_ her, but because this was a dream. Just a delectable dream between her and not a real person.

He seemed to notice her melancholy mood and kissed both of her cheeks. "Daenerys, my dragon queen... please don't be upset."

"I want you to be real," she said, almost pleading. "I want you in my bed, by my side, everywhere. I lo... _Please_ tell me your name."

The dream ended and Dany felt unsatisfied, despite how much she worked her fingers that night.


	3. chapter three

**chapter three**

Daenerys had her doubts about buying Unsullied. Ser Jorah was still adamant about purchasing them, but she was beginning to think it was because he didn't want to agree with Arstan Whitebeard.

"Bricks and blood built Astapor," murmured Whitebeard, "and bricks and blood her people."

"What is that?" Dany asked, curious.

"And old rhyme a maester taught me, when I was a boy. I never knew how true it was. The bricks of Astapor are red with the blood of the slaves who made them."

"I can well believe that," said Dany.

"Then leave this place before your heart turns to brick as well. Sail this very night, on the evening tide."

_Would that I could_, thought Dany. "When I leave Astapor it must be with an army, Ser Jorah says."

"Ser Jorah was a slaver himself, Your Grace," the old man reminded her. "There are sellswords in Pentos and Myr and Tyrosh you can hire. A man who kills for coin has no honor, but at least they are no slaves. Find your army there, I beg you."

"My brother visited Pentos, Myr, Braavos, near all the Free Cities. The magisters and archons fed him wine and promises, but his soul was starved to death. A man cannot sup from the beggar's bowl all his life and stay a man. I had my taste in Qarth, that was enough. I will not come to Pentos bowl in hand."

"Better to come a beggar than a slaver," Arstan simply said.

"There speaks one who has been neither." Daenerys felt anger rising in her. "Do you know what it's like to be _sold,_ squire? I do. My brother sold me to Khal Drogo for the promise of a golden crown. Well, Drogo crowned him in gold, though not as he wished, and I... my sun-and-stars made a queen of me, but if he had been a different man, it might have been much otherwise. Do you think I have forgotten how it felt to be afraid?"

Whitebeard bowed his head. "Your Grace, I did not mean to give offense."

"Only lies offend me, never honest counsel." Dany patted Arstan's spotted hand to reassure him. "I have a dragon's temper, that's all. You must not let it frighten you."

"I shall try and remember." Whitebeard smiled, "But please, Your Grace, consider what I said."

"I will," Dany promised then hesitated with her next question. "I've been meaning to ask... have you been to the North?"

"The North?" he repeated, "No, I haven't, but I know much of the history."

"Tell me," said, trying to hide her excitement. He may give her a hint about the solemn boy in her dreams.

Whitebeard never questioned her sudden interest in the North, but told her about the wolves of Winterfell and the houses surrounding it. There was a fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach when he mentioned godswoods.

**.**

This time, her dream was not as pleasant as the others.

Dany watched from outside her window as war raged on. Blood splattered and swords were drawn, but she could only focus on the lemon dream near his window. She was inside the house with the red door. The closest thing she had to home.

The people fighting looked a lot like the Unsullied, but they were losing. Dany couldn't believe all the gore she was seeing. Would this be _her_ war? She didn't want so much bloodshed when she went to Westeros.

A scream was lodged in her throat when an Unsullied stabbed the boy from her dreams in the stomach. Dany felt herself moving, but her eyes were only on her lover. No one attempted to hurt her as she threw herself on him.

Gingerly, she cradled his body. His dark hair was sweaty and matted to his forehead, blood oozed from his wound. Daenerys refused to look at where the sword pierced his stomach and only into his eyes. Those grey eyes she grew so familiar with.

"My love... you're hurt," she said softly, brushing back his hair.

"It doesn't hurt too much," he responded before coughing blood. "Daenerys, my dragon queen, I'm sorry..."

"Don't be." Dany kissed his cheek, bringing him closer to her.

"I couldn't protect you..."

_"I_ couldn't protect you."

He locked eyes with her then brought his hand to her face. His fingers brushed against her cheek as he stroked one silver-gold lock. Her tears fell on him, but Dany didn't want to let go of him.

His eyes drifted off, becoming less bright. The last thing he said shattered Daenerys' heart. "I will always love you."

Someone stepped in front of Dany and she looked up. The knight lifted his visor from his helmet and she could see deep blue eyes and strands of auburn hair.

_"The north remembers,"_ he stated.

Daenerys woke up after she felt someone shaking her. This time it was Jhiqui, staring at her with concerned eyes.

"_Khalessi,_ you are crying. Do you still mourn for Khal Drogo?" she whispered.

"I'm crying?" Dany repeated stupidly. She wiped away her tears and smiled a little. "No, sweetling. I just dreamed of... of the North."

**.**

Daenerys needed to make a decision. Buy the Unsullied and stay in Slaver's Bay or sail to Pentos. If only it were easy for her. How pleasant would it be to sail to King's Landing with her dragons and pay the boy Joffrey a chest of gold to make him go away.

_"Khalessi?"_ Ser Jorah prompted. She didn't realize how silent she had been. He touched her elbow lightly.

Dany shrugged him off. "Viserys would have bought as many Unsullied as he had the coin for. But you once said I was like Rhaegar..."

"I remember, Daenerys."

"_Your Grace,_" she corrected. "Prince Rhaegar led free men into battle, not slaves. Whitebeard said he dubbed his squires himself, and made many other knights as well."

"There was no higher honor than to receive your knighthood from the Prince of Dragonstone."

"Tell me, then - when he touched a man on the shoulder with his sword, what did he say? 'Go forth and kill the weak?' Or 'Go forth and defend them'? At the Trident, those brave men Viserys spoke of who died beneath our dragon banners - did they give their lives because they _believed_ in Rhaegar's cause, or because they had been bought and paid for?" Dany turned to Mormont. She crossed her arms and waited for an answer.

"My queen," the big man said slowly, "all you say is true. But Rhaegar lost on the Trident. He lost the battle, he lost the war, he lost the kingdom, and he lost his life. His blood swirled downriver with the rubies from his breastplate, and Robert the Usurper rode over his corpse to steal the Iron Throne. Rhaegar fought valiantly, Rhaegar fought nobly, Rhaegar fought honorably. And Rhaegar _died_."

Dany was silent. Ser Jorah was right. She couldn't be Rhaegar nor Viserys. No one could imitate Aegon the Conqueror neither. She needed to be... herself. _What do I want to do?_ Dany wondered. She had been getting everyone's counsel, but never decided for herself. The only place she truly wanted to go was north, but that was selfish and fruitless. Conquering Westeros was more important than her dreams, no matter how vivid they were.

Taking a deep breath, Daenerys met Ser Jorah's eyes. "We sail for Pentos. Illyrio Mopatis is waiting for us."

**.**

Men hastily moved away from her as she walked. Melisandre ignored the fear they felt for her, fear mixed with hatred. It was no secret that she intimidated these men with her tall stature and red eyes. She never helped to relieve their nerves by wearing flimsy dresses in such cold weather.

That didn't matter to her at the moment. She needed to search her fires for another sign of Azor Ahai.

It confused Melisandre. She was sure that Stannis was Azor Ahai reborn, but when peering into her fires, she never saw the unforgiving man._ I will not give up,_ Melisandre thought, _Stannis will rule the Iron Throne with Lightbringer by his side._

Finding a secluded area, Melisandre started a fire before placing her hands above it. She stared at the flames, searching for Stannis Baratheon. He must be Azor Ahai reborn.

She wrinkled her eyebrows when she found something else in the flames. She found Jon Snow instead, surrounded by skulls. His face shifted from boy to wolf. _This... this cannot be,_ Melisandre thought.

Suddenly, as Jon's form changed to direwolf, a three-headed dragon appeared. Melisandre gasped, her entire body tensing as the dragon screeched and blew fire. It flew above the direwolf, drawing closer and closer to a city that reminded her of King's Landing. Her immediate thought was the ancient Targaryens.

There were no more left, with the exception of the Mad King's last two. Even then, Viserys had died in Vaes Dothrak. That only left his sister, but she was just a girl...

_A girl flowered, wedded, and with an army. If the rumors are true about the dragons..._ Melisandre shuddered. The only question was what did Daenerys Targaryen have to do with Jon Snow?

Melisandre resolved to find that out.


	4. chapter four

**chapter four**

Daenerys wandered through the monstrous halls of the largest castle she had ever been in. It had five towers with most decaying, resembling a dark and ruinous place. The colossal curtain walls were sheer and high as mountain cliffs while atop the battlements the wood-and-iron scorpions seemed as small as their namesakes when seen from the ground, its stone discolored and fissured.

_Giants would prefer this place,_ thought Dany.

The sound of a harp and melancholic singing piqued Daenerys's interest. She tried searching for whoever sang. It was such a sad, beautiful song that brought tears to her eyes. Dany had listened to singers already, but no one compared to this man's voice.

Finally reaching the sound, Dany hesitantly walked inside a hall. Her mouth went slack and her breath taken away from the sight beholding her. The sight of a young man who shared her features, but his eyes were a deeper hue of lilac and his face somber.

_That... that cannot be Viserys. He was not nearly as handsome as this man in front of me nor this pensive,_ Dany thought, finally closing her mouth. _Could this be Rhaegar?_ When he ended his song, the man put aside his harp and stood up to his full height.

"You must be shocked to see the dead, but I think we both share this surprise, sister. I never expected you to grow up and become so lovely," said Rhaegar, stepping closer to her. "Or this strong."

"I've always wanted to meet you, brother," Dany said, barely able to hide her shock.

"We shall only meet truly in death, Daenerys," he replied then graciously offered her his arm. "Come. I grow weary of this particular room."

Dany took his arm and allowed him to lead the way. Rhaegar dressed in Westeros fashion which was a change for her. Ser Jorah occasionally dressed the same way and so did the solemn boy from her dreams. _I miss him,_ Dany thought,_ if only he were real then I'd make him mine._

Rhaegar looked down at her and tucked a few loose strands of silver hair behind her ear. "You were expecting someone else, weren't you?"

"I was, but he does not compare to you, brother. You're real and he isn't."

"Don't make assumptions, sister. He could be as real as your dragons."

"Everyone says I'm like you."

"How do you mean?"

They stopped walking. Dany realized that they were by a godswood which was unlike the one from her first dream.

Walled over twenty acres, it had a small stream running through it. The heart tree appeared to have a terrible visage full of hatred, with a twisted mouth and flaring eyes. It also had thirteen deep marks carved into it, so disturbing that Daenerys had to turn away.

"That you and I are alike. You were-are a great warrior," explained Dany, meeting her brother's eyes.

Rhaegar let go of Dany and stood in front of her before saying, "You and I are _nothing_ alike. The only things we share are our looks and the same mad father. I started a war, you did not. I abandoned my wife and two children, you did not. It's best if you don't follow my example."

Dany did not understand. He seemed to have heard her thoughts and continued, "I let love and lust consume me, losing my wits which caused me to lose my life. Lyanna Stark didn't deserve her death so soon."

Hearing of Lyanna Stark made Dany tense. She heard the stories. Many said that Rhaegar kidnapped and raped her, but few claimed that she _willingly_ went with him. Viserys called her "a whore who used the weapon between her legs to seduce and destroy the Seven Kingdoms."

_I must ask Arstan about the she-wolf,_ Dany reminded herself. She almost jumped, startled by Rhaegar who placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Daenerys, I've made mistakes. Learn from them. I know you must be tired of hearing prophecies, but do not heed this one: you are the prince that was promised."

"But... you say prince and I am just a girl."

"That does not matter. _'Born amidst salt and smoke, beneath a bleeding star.'_ What matters is that you, Daenerys Stormborn, will deliver the world from darkness with _fire and blood._"

**.**

The morning after the dream, Dany sought out Arstan Whitebeard to tell him about her dream. Ser Jorah was there as well and both listened intently. When she finished, Rhaegal flapped his mossy green wings before screeching.

Ser Jorah gave her a wary look. "Your Grace, are you _sure_ you dreamt of Rhaegar? You don't even know what he looks like."

"I know it was him, Ser Jorah," Dany replied coolly. She rubbed the scales on Rhaegal's head like he was any other ordinary pet. "What do you make of this dream, Whitebeard?"

Whitebeard stroked his long beard, pondering silently. His blue eyes were even more sad than before.

"I say you listen to your brother, Your Grace," he finally answered.

_I won't disappoint you, Rhaegar, _thought Daenerys. She was even more determined to reach Pentos.


	5. chapter five

**chapter five**

The white wolf raced through a black wood filled with snow. The moon ran with him, slipping through a tangle of bare branches overhead, across the starry sky. He couldn't hear his packmates, but kept running.

Under the moonlight, a girl dressed in exotic clothing sat in the snow. Her hair was a river of silver-gold. She looked up and stared straight into the wolf's red eyes. The white wolf tentatively stepped towards her until he could smell her.

She touched his head then scratched behind his ears. The wolf nuzzled his head under her chin, allowing her to hug him. He pulled away when he heard her gasp, turning to find Jon Snow standing in front of them.

The girl rose and appeared close to shedding tears. "You've returned to me."

"I have," he said then pulled her into his arms. "Save your tears, my love. I'm here now and I won't ever leave you."

"If you do, I'll never forgive you," the girl replied, but tilted her head and let him kiss her. The wolf watched as the two embraced, kissing softly.

A raven flew and landed on Jon Snow's chest with a _thump_. "Snow!" it screamed into his face.

The raven nearly fell when Jon sat upright like an arrow. Sweat glistened on his skin, his thick hair tangled and matted. Rubbing his eyes, Jon didn't know what _that_ dream was about. More importantly, who was that girl?

_She said I returned to her, yet I've never seen her before,_ thought Jon. He missed Ygritte too much and was fantasizing of another love. Yes, that explained it. These wolf dreams have been stronger recently.

"Are you alright, m'lord?" inquired Dolorous Edd.

"I'm fine. Any trouble from the stockades last night?"

"Not since you put guards on the guards, m'lord."

"Good." Jon couldn't let a silly dream bother him all day. He was Lord Commander now and he had responsibilities. Did dealing with Stannis Baratheon count as one as well?

_It's a pity she isn't here,_ he thought then regretted it. If a girl that fair was here among his brothers and Stannis's men, she wouldn't be a maiden by midday.

For the rest of the day, Jon felt an unfamiliar longing in the pit of his stomach. One for the girl who waited for him.

**.**

Tyrion Lannister couldn't decide if he had a good trip or not. He drank his way across the narrow sea, but pondered his father's last words._ And what words they were_, thought Tyrion.

"Wherever whores go," his father had told him. His crossbow _thrummed_ and Lord Tywin sat back down. Now he would be known as the lion who died on the privy. Ha.

The cheesemonger was busy fattening himself and Tyrion up. He offered Tyrion a cup of wine and he happily accepted. Wine would be his only true friend unless he was as mad as Aerion the Monstrous and drank wildfire.

"Tell me," Tyrion said as he drank, "why should a magister of Pentos give three figs to who wears the crown in Westeros? Where is the gain in this venture, my lord?"

The fat man dabbed grease from his lips. "I am an old man, grown weary of this world and its treacheries. Is it so strange that I should wish to do some good before my days are done, to help a sweet young girl regain her birthright?"

Either Illyrio was an idealistic idiot or a fat man hungry for gold. Hungry with friends equally starved. Most likely the latter as Tyrion only saw idealism in young boys, but even then they wanted glory more than they wanted good.

"If Daenerys is no more than a sweet young girl, the Iron Throne will cut her into sweet young pieces."

"Fear not, my little friend. The blood of Aegon the Dragon flows through her veins."

_Along with the blood of Aegon the Unworthy, Maegor the Cruel, and Baelor the Befuddled_. "Tell me more of her."

The lord of cheese grew pensive. "Daenerys was half of a child when she came to me, yet fairer than my second wife, so lovely I was tempted to claim her for myself. Such a fearful, furtive thing, however, I knew I should get no joy from coupling with her. Instead I summoned a bedwarmer and fucked her vigorously until the madness passed. If truth be told, I did not think Daenerys would survive for long amongst the horselords."

"That did not stop you from selling her to Khal Drogo..."

"Dothraki neither buy nor sell," the fat man informed him. "Say rather her brother Viserys gave her to Drogo to win the khal's friendship. A vain young man, and greedy. Viserys lusted for his father's throne, but he lusted for Daenerys too, and was loath to give her up. The night before the princess wed he tried to steal into her bed, insisting that if he could not have her hand, he would claim her maidenhead. Had I not taken precaution of posting guards outside her door, Viserys might have undone years of planning."

"He sounds like an utter fool."

"Viserys was Mad Aerys's son, just so. Daenerys... Daenerys is quite different." He ate a roasted lark greedily, even the bones. "The frightened child who sheltered in my manse died on the Dothraki sea, and was reborn in blood and fire. This dragon queen who wears her name is a true Targaryen. I sent ships to bring her home, she turned to Slaver's Bay. Despite not conquering its cities, she easily could have with her dragons. She knows her true purpose and that is Westeros."

Tyrion pondered what he said. Just like Aegon, Daenerys wished to conquer the Seven Kingdoms. "What do you hope to gain from Queen Daenerys?"

"Are we back to that again? You are a persistent little man." Illyrio gave a laugh and slapped his belly. "As you will. The Beggar King swore that I should be his master of coin, and I lordly lord as well. Once he wore his golden crown, I should have my choice of castles... even Casterly Rock, if I desired."

Tyrion snorted. "My father would have loved to hear that."

"Your lord father had no cause for concern. Why would I want a rock? My manse is large enough for any man, and more comfortable than your drafty Westerosi castles. Master of coin, though..." The cheesemonger peeled another egg. "I am fond of coins. Is there any sound as sweet as the clink of gold on gold?"

_A sister's screams,_ Tyrion thought, imagining Cersei getting throttled by his hands. A sweet sound that would be. "Are you quite certain that Daenerys will make good of her brother's promises?"

"She will or she will not." Illyrio bit the egg in half. "I told you, my little friend, not all that a man does is done for gain. Believe as you wish, but even fat old fools like me have friends, and debts of affections to repay."

_Liar,_ thought Tyrion. _There is something in this venture worth more to you than coin or castles_. Before Tyrion could respond, one of the fat man's servants stepped in the room.

"My lord, you have visitors," they said.

"Visitors?" he repeated, puzzled. "I do not remember having visitors today... Did you get a name?"

"She claims to be Daenerys Targaryen."


	6. chapter six

**chapter six**

Daenerys felt herself smile as they reached the harbor. Finally, after some grueling weeks on the ship, she and her dragons were finally getting somewhere. Dany couldn't handle anymore of Ser Jorah's longing looks or persistence to get her alone with him.

Everything was familiar. The square brick towers, the tile roofs, the crowded markets. Even from a distance, Dany could see Illyrio's gated manse._ I remember it well,_ thought Dany. Illyrio bought her plenty of dresses and fed her so well that she thought her belly might burst.

Ser Jorah appeared by her side, giving her a gentle smile. "You look happy, Your Grace."

Dany took his hairy arm in hers. "I am. I'm eager to stretch my legs."

Her dragons flew above them, casting large shadows above the harbor. The Pentoshi all stared up at the sky in awe, some in fear. Arstan had advised her to teach her dragons more commands other than _dracarys_ in High Valyrian.

"Your dragons keep growing, _khaleesi_," noted Ser Jorah. "Especially Drogon."

"I know. Whitebeard says that if I don't chain them, they'll grow so large that they may swallow a mammoth."

"Westeros will tremble when you arrive to take what's yours."

"But will thank the gods that I have come to save them along with my Master of Laws."

Ser Jorah frowned and Dany knew exactly why. "I'd prefer to be your consort."

_But I do not_, she thought. The consort she wanted was merely a figment of her pathetic imagination. Thankfully, Arstan Whitebeard caught up with them and said that he received horses for their trip to Illyrio's manse.

**.**

Tyrion's breath was lost when he first laid eyes on her. She was the fairest woman he had ever seen. Her looks so fine that she made his sweet sister _Cersei_ look like Chella daughter of Cheyk.

_Half a girl and she's still the most beautiful woman in the world,_ thought Tyrion. He hated how tight his breeches grew from just the thought of her full lips sucking his cock. Gods, he'd be dreaming of her tonight.

"Daenerys!" exclaimed the cheesemonger, his huge white belly bouncing.

"That's Your Grace to you," snapped a burly, broad-shouldered man. Tyrion did not like the look of him.

The fat man struggled to get to his feet, but managed. "Beg pardons. I just assumed we were still friends since I housed you and your brother. My apologies for Viserys and your husband."

Daenerys Stormborn walked further in the room. "He meant no harm, Ser Jorah," she said before kissing Illyrio on his greasy cheek. "Viserys received what he deserved and my sun-and-stars is in a better place along with my son."

She was strong. Tyrion would give her that. There was no remorse in her amethyst eyes for her brother. He tilted his head when he noticed another man standing by the entrance. He looked familiar, maybe if it weren't for his long hair or white beard...

"Barristan the Bold," Tyrion called out, earning the reaction he desired.

"No, that is Arstan Whitebeard," Daenerys informed him. She wrinkled her brows. "Who are you?"

"Before I give you the pleasure of knowing who I am, I should let you know who this man is, Your Grace," he replied then got out of his seat. "That right there is Ser Barristan Selmy, the former Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."

Ser Barristan Selmy scowled darkly at Tyrion. He'd received worser looks from his father. "You are mistaken."

Apparently he was not.

"I saw him perhaps a dozen times from afar, most often, standing with his brothers or riding in some tourney. But every man in the Seven Kingdoms knows Barristan the Bold. _Khaleesi_, before you further question the dwarf, this is the man who betrayed your House to serve the Usurper, Robert Baratheon," said Ser Jorah. He sounded partly smug.

"Is this true?" Daenerys asked evenly, but her eyes couldn't hide her fury.

Ser Barristan went on his knees and looked sincerely ashamed. It had been a long time since Tyrion had seen sincerity.

"Your Grace, I have always served your House faithfully. I fought for your House during the Rebellion, willing to die for you and your family. Your father started out with so much promise..."

"But you decided to serve the Usurper instead," Daenerys interrupted balefully.

"Robert Baratheon pardoned me, but I had no where else to go, Your Grace. If I had seen Robert smile when Tywin Lannister presented with the bloody bodies of Rhaegar's children, I would never have served him and nothing would have stopped me from killing him."

"I don't doubt that," Tyrion muttered.

All eyes turned to him. "Says Lord Tywin's doom," responded Ser Jorah.

"_You're_ Tywin Lannister's son?" Daenerys stared at him, her mouth slightly agape.

"Unfortunately. Were you expecting someone taller?" Tyrion said with a smile, "Do not be so quick to punish the old man, Your Grace. Everything he says is true. My little shit nephew dismissed him for his age, a stupid decision on his part, and has found peace serving you."

Ser Barristan eyed Tyrion. "What happened to your nose?"

"The Battle of the Blackwater," he answered.

"Did you know of this, Magister Illyrio?" demanded the silver queen.

"Aye." The fat man seemed reluctant. "He came to me, hoping to find you so he could repent."

"My service to Robert was inexcusable. He was a good knight, but an awful king. I thought the only way the gods would forgive me was if I found a true king and died for him and that _queen_ is you, Your Grace."

Silence filled the room. Daenerys had an unreadable expression on her face. Tyrion hoped she wouldn't feed Ser Barristan to her dragons. He was a loyal and valuable knight. _My father was enraged with Cersei and Joffrey after that folly,_ he remembered.

The Mother of Dragons placed her hand on Ser Barristan's shoulder.

"Rise," she commanded, "A handmaiden of mine once said that I must always look into a man's eyes. I know you mean to serve me honestly."

As the old man rose, Daenerys's entire expression turned cold as she added, "But if you ever betray me, I shall show you no mercy. I do not wish to be surrounded by liars."

_But that is my greatest asset,_ Tyrion thought then froze when Daenerys turned to him.

"Why would a lion come to a dragon? Is this your brazen attempt to finish what the Usurper and his dogs started?"

"No, Your Grace. I seeked you out to help you."

"Help me?" She laughed. "Why would you want to help me?"

Tyrion was glad she was humoring him instead of burning him. "I acted as Hand to the king once and I am still a key player in the game of thrones."

"So are Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan," Daenerys said, but sounded a little curious.

"No, they are not. _You_ may be a playing the game of thrones, but knights do not. The Iron Throne will either cut you into pieces or allow you to sit on it like a true leader. Robert may not have had the best morals, but he was a better king than Joffrey and Eddard Stark never deserved his head to be lopped off."

She glared at him. "Stark was a traitor and met a traitor's end."

"Your Grace," spoke Ser Barristan. "Eddard Stark played a part in your father's fall, there is no denying that, but he bore you no ill will. When we were told that you were with child, Robert wanted you killed, but Lord Stark against it. He has always refused to murder children."

_And that's what got him killed,_ thought Tyrion. Stark had refused to acknowledge that Joffrey was a complete monster behind his golden looks.

"Have you forgotten Princess Rhaenys and Prince Aegon?"

"Never. That was Lannister work, Your Grace."

Ser Jorah glowered at Tyrion. The dwarf shuddered. What had he ever done to this swarthy man?

"Lannister or Stark, what difference? If a child is set upon a pack of hounds, does it matter which one tears out his throat? All the dogs are just as guilty. The guilt..."

"That is where you are wrong, Your Grace," Tyrion cut in. The Seven Kingdoms would perish if the girl had the attitude of Walder Frey. The Old Frey could hold a grudge, just look at the Red Wedding. "Lord Stark was a respected man all throughout the realm. He only fought with Robert to protect the honor of his sister. Did your brother ever tell you that it was _Rhaegar_ who sparked the war by kidnapping Lyanna Stark?"

"He said that she... that she beguiled him."

_Of course._ "It did not help that your father murdered his brother and own father. Can you blame Eddard Stark for riding into battle against your father? Like Ser Barristan said, Stark bore you no ill will."

Ser Barristan sighed. "Robert Baratheon nearly destroyed his friendship with Lord Stark when he murdered your niece and nephew as well as trying to find you and Viserys."

"Why are you telling me this?" Daenerys snapped, "Is there some reason behind me knowing why Stark was such a 'good man'?"

Tyrion startled her by bending one knee before her. "You and I share a common goal: to bring an end to the reign of Lannisters. Luckily for both of us, I have killed the only Lannister other than myself who can pose as a true threat to you."

Daenerys stared at him with fiery eyes. "What are you saying? That you..."

"I, Tyrion Lannister, have murdered my own father. Go ahead, call me a kinslayer. I don't care. All dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes, Your Grace."

"Some would say that you are a kingslayer as well," the cheesemonger pointed out slyly.

"True, I am accused of slaying my king, but I never did it. I may have despised the little shit, but I never thought of poisoning him. I'd instantly be accused and executed if I truly did it."

"Why?" was all Daenerys asked. "Why would you want to help me? What do you expect to gain from this venture, Lord Tyrion?"

Grinning, Tyrion locked eyes with the Dragon Queen. "The only thing I expect to gain is to finally see dragons, Your Grace... and to kill my sweet sister and her golden twin myself. That's all I ask.


	7. chapter seven

**I'm very happy with the reception I'm getting for this. It's my first ASOIAF fic (though not my first ever fanfic) and I'm not nearly a good writer as George R.R. Martin, but thank you guys so much for the support!**

**Anyways, here is another chapter and another saucy dream between Dany and Jon.**

**chapter seven**

Daenerys was well aware that she shouldn't trust a Lannister, much a less a kinslayer. Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan told her plainly that she should punish Tyrion for his crimes, but she forbade it.

Tyrion Lannister was intelligent and shrewd. She could use someone like him in her company. Barristan Selmy was old and wise while Jorah Mormont was strong and cultured, but they have never played the game of thrones.

After accepting him into her court, Tyrion said she needed to be educated. "Do not take it as a slight, Your Grace," he hastily said, "You need to know who the real enemy is before going to war with the wrong Westerosi."

The Northmen were honorable and would happily kill any Lannisters as well as Freys. Dany shuddered, remembering how Tyrion described the Red Wedding. The Young Wolf was more a green boy than a true king, he would have never lasted on the Iron Throne.

The Riverlands would follow the Northmen, ready to avenge the death of their Young Wolf and his lady mother. Dany assumed she would have to punish the Freys for their act of dishonor if she were to get the Riverlands and Northmen on her side.

Dorne would oblige, Dany knew that. The two Houses had a history. The first Daenerys had wed Maron Martell while her brother Rhaegar married Elia Martell and sired two children. _If Aegon were alive, I probably would have married him_, thought Dany.

"I do not know much of my family's history," Dany had admitted.

"That is why you need me," replied Tyrion, giving her a cheeky smile. "I've been reading all my life from the history of Westeros to your family's."

"Why would you read up on the Targaryen history?" questioned Ser Barristan.

"When I was a boy, I used to dream of having a dragon of my own," the Imp confessed. Dany had smiled at that.

Tyrion promised to tell her more about the first Daenerys. He mentioned something of the Water Gardens which Dany was curious about. All the while, Ser Jorah glared daggers at her new advisor.

_If his jealousy gets out of hand, I won't know what to do,_ Dany thought as she slipped out of her pale green samite dress. When she stepped inside the tub, she sunk low in the water and enjoyed how scalding it was.

Jhiqui washed her silvery hair diligently, rubbing almond oil in it. Dany rubbed the oils on herself and dismissed the copper-skinned girl, wanting to soak alone. She closed her eyes, thinking of what her life would be like in Westeros. Aegon the Conqueror once said that "a king should never sit easy."

Well, a queen would now never sit easily.

However, she found the boy from her dreams hovering over her instead. "I've missed you," he told her.

"I missed you more," Dany whispered. She touched his clean shaven cheek. "Will you tell me your name?"

"Soon," he promised before kissing her deeply. "Gods, you smell good."

Dany's fingers trailed the outline of his torso, admiring how well-muscled it was. She twisted her body when she felt one of his fingers tickle her inner thighs, caressing her in the most irresistible way. _He's teasing me,_ she thought,_ if that is how he wishes to go_. Dany grabbed a hold of his manhood and gave it one tight stroke.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, groaning. She loosened her grip and stroked him until he was hard. Dany moaned softly when he probed two fingers inside her. He played with her slit and took one of her nipples in his mouth. He nipped at the flesh around it before kissing her neck and jaw, sucking on the skin until it turned red.

There was so much going on. Daenerys almost reached her peak, her moans getting higher and higher. Taking a fist of his hair, she crushed his lips onto hers. He quieted her screams with his tongue. _I wish it was tongue instead of his fingers in me_. She felt light when she finally reached peak. He came soon afterwards, using her breasts as his pillow and kissing her occasionally.

They soaked in the tub in silence, only the sounds of their heavy breathing could be heard. "I want you, my love. I... I need you."

He lifted his head and pecked her lips. "Daenerys, there will be a time when we will finally meet."

"Is that time soon?"

"Soon. Then you shall finally learn my name."

**.**

Daenerys felt restless after her bath. Tossing and turning, she even summoned Irri. She hoped her caresses would make sleep come easier, but it did not. Irri's hand wasn't burned or grey eyes bordering on black.

When she pushed the girl away, she frowned. "Have I not pleased you, _khaleesi_?"

"Only a man can do so," Dany replied bitterly. "Go to sleep, sweetling. I don't want you losing rest because of me."

"I only wish to serve you," Irri responded, but went asleep anyways. Dany was jealous of the girl, but attempted to sleep once more.

**.**

"And who were Aegon's Great Bastards?" Tyrion questioned.

"Daemon Blackfyre, Bittersteel, Bloodraven, and... and..."

"Shiera Seastar," Ser Jorah answered, helping Daenerys out.

The dwarf shook his head, annoyed. "How is she supposed to learn if her bear keeps giving her the answers?"

Mormont gave him a dirty look, but Dany buried her face in her hands. "My head is beginning to hurt from all this learning. Lord Tyrion, lets see to my dragons."

"But you aren't done with your lessons..." Ser Jorah started.

"A quick break won't hurt."

Despite being her scholar, Tyrion didn't mind cutting lessons short if it meant getting to see her dragons. Ser Jorah kept watch in case the Lannister attempted something. _He just wants to keep an eye on me_, Dany thought, nearly rolling her eyes. They deserted their books and headed to Illyrio's garden.

Tyrion was always eager to meet her dragons. _My children._ Dany found it hard to hate him after he told her that he once asked for a dragon on his nameday. She wouldn't give him one, but she didn't mind if he wanted to mount one and fly.

Viserion usually rested under a shady tree near the marble pool while his brothers explored Pentos. During her breaks from Tyrion's lessons, Dany and Ser Barristan attempted to tame them. At times, Dany thought there was success and then other times... well, she would not like to speak of it.

Daenerys approached the white dragon and rubbed his head. His scales felt hot like armor left outside in the sun. Viserion nudged his head at her side, letting smoke air out of his nostrils.

"When do you think you'll be able to ride them, Your Grace?" Tyrion inquired, tentatively reaching out to touch Viserion.

"Soon hopefully. I want to ride my dragons to Westeros," she replied then pressed her lips to the top of Viserion's head. "We should find some meat for him. His brothers are probably filling their bellies."

"Do you think that I might get a ride on one of your dragons?"

Dany grinned. "Now, why would I withhold you from your lifelong wishes, my lord?"

He chuckled and followed his queen to the kitchens. They returned with a handful of meat and Dany wasn't surprised to find Viserion still curled up. He lifted his head when he sniffed the meat before screeching.

Holding a strip of meat, Dany laughed lightly at how Viserion's molten gold eyes followed its movements.

"_Dracarys_," she said, tossing the meat to him. Dany stepped aside when his pale gold flames burned the meat and chewed it.

"Incredible..." Tyrion watched with mismatched eyes. "If I were to say that command, might it listen to me as well?"

"Yes, but you must be careful."

"I know. I'm merely contemplating whether I should rape and choke Cersei to death or feed her to your dragons."

Whenever Tyrion spoke like that, it reminded Dany of Drogo. Her sun-and-stars enjoyed bloodlust, but never to his kin._ Remember what he is. He murdered his own father_.

They fed Viserion for the rest of their time. Dany's apprehension towards Tyrion washing away with every quip of his and bits of information.

**.**

To say that Jaime was shocked was an understatement.

He didn't expect Brienne the Beauty anytime soon, much less hideously scarred. She had shown him what was underneath her bandage. _At least I am not alone,_ thought Jaime, glancing at his gleaming golden hand.

As soon as he laid eyes on the lad with her, he knew that he was Robert Baratheon's bastard. Same height and build (when he was young and powerful), bold blue eyes, strong square jawline, coal black hair... _The wench probably dragged the poor boy along because of his resemblance to Renly._

"Leave us," Jaime told his scouts. "You've been wounded."

"A bite." She touched the hilt of her sword, the sword that he had given her. _Oathkeeper_. "My lord, you gave me a quest."

"The girl. Have you found her?"

"I have," said Brienne.

"Where is she?"

"A day's ride. I can take you to see her, ser... but you will need to come alone. Elsewise, the Hound will kill her."

Jaime stared at her, wondering if this was some sort of jape. _She's truly serious_, he thought before shaking his head in disbelief.

"The Hound is dead. Why would you think that the girl is with him?" he questioned, "Did you even _see_ Sansa Stark with him?"

Brienne blushed. "Well, no, but..."

"Do not be so foolish, wench. She would never go with Sandor Clegane willingly."

There was a pause. Jaime tried to think of all the places where a highborn girl would go. She couldn't go to the North since the Bastard of Bolton burned Winterfell to ruins, Riverrun was neither a plausible choice now that Edmure Tully was his hostage and the Blackfish escaped to gods knows where.

_Her aunt Lysa maybe, before she died_. Jaime remembered meeting Lysa, a pretty little thing with long auburn hair and shy blue eyes. He had found Catelyn more interesting, but regrettably, she was betrothed to the elder Stark brother.

Could Sansa have gone to the Vale? Petyr Baelish was always way too in love with Catelyn Stark, often boasting about he took both the Tully girls maidenheads. Jaime doubted it as the elder sister was one for duty, though he couldn't say the same for Lysa.

Jaime tried to think like his brother Tyrion. He always had his sword while Tyrion used his wit. Jaime was just a shadow of his former self, his swordsmanship not even close to what it used to be.

Littlefinger always had something up his sleeve. Jaime usually paid him no mind since he was oft with Cersei or his fellow members of the Kingsguard, but then again... he might have an idea as to where the girl was hiding.

"Ser Jaime?" Brienne's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"Littlefinger has recently become Lord Protector of the Vale as well as Lord Paramount of the Trident. We should pay him a visit," Jaime said, deciding that it wouldn't hurt to hear Littlefinger's thoughts on Sansa Stark's whereabouts.

After all, a Lannister always his debts.

* * *

**I know Gendry never went with Brienne when she found Jaime, but there is a reason for that. Jon and Dany will meet either in the next chapter or the one after.**


	8. chapter eight

**If you've read _A Dance With Dragons_, then you know what happens to Jon. For those who don't and don't understand the end of this chapter, Jon basically violated his vows. Anyways, enjoy :)**

**chapter eight**

Brienne stood silently, her only light being the moon shining above her. Her hand was wrapped around the hilt of her sword. _Oathkeeper_. Her eyes turned to the lake nearby, shimmering. If it weren't so cold, she would have taken a dip.

"Ready?" asked a familiar voice.

She met emerald eyes. Jaime Lannister had finally arrived, carrying a flagon of wine along with two cups. He set it down near a log and drew closer to Brienne. _He shaved_, thought Brienne, _though he still looks handsome with a beard._

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Brienne inquired.

"I can't improve if no one is willing to spar with me," he replied then unsheathed his sword. "Don't laugh if I fall on my arse."

They readied themselves before Brienne slashed at him. He parried clumsily. Their swords kissed and kissed. Brienne felt something stirring in her, that same excitement she endured when they first fought. Jaime was quicker and stronger despite being malnourished.

His sword came close to her face and Brienne dodged. She nearly fell backwards, but Jaime grabbed her waist and jerked her towards him. His knee was between her legs and Brienne gasped.

Jaime let go of her and they restarted. _What was that?_ Brienne wondered, feeling a fluttery feeling between her legs.

Hours past until they decided to stop. Her straw-colored hair was matted with sweat and her arms and legs were sore.

"Here." Jaime handed her a cup with his golden hand. When his left began shaking from holding the flagon, Brienne took it from him and poured the wine herself. The wine was strong, but tasted sweet.

Jaime adjusted himself so that his head rested on the log while the rest of his body relaxed in the grass. He looked up at her before taking a swig of his wine.

"You're still a maid?"

His question caught her off guard. She shot him a dirty look. "This isn't a topic for discussion, _ser_."

"And why not? I can keep a secret."

"Like I trust you."

"You should."

She looked at him then rolled her eyes. "It isn't as if I'm a renown beauty, Ser Jaime. I don't have men chasing after me."

He shrugged and said, "The only pretty thing about you are your eyes. So blue, like sapphires."

Brienne blushed.

The Kingslayer sat up completely and poured himself another cup of wine. By the next hour, his cheeks were flushed and the flagon was half empty. Brienne accepted another cup, but that was it.

Her eyes widened when Jaime started to strip.

"W-What are you _doing_?" Brienne demanded, avoiding his bare chest.

"You're going to die a maid and I'm willing to fuck you. Don't you want to feel a man's touch at least once?" Jaime asked, his voice a little slurred.

_He's drunk_, she realized then flinched when he cupped her cheek with his good hand, his fingers touching her hair. Her breath was lost as he brought his face closer to hers. Then he whispered, "At least let me kiss you."

Brienne brought her arms up to Jaime's shoulders as she kissed him, and slowly reached one hand to the back of his head, lightly running her fingers through his hair. If anyone were to tell Brienne that she would be kissing the Kingslayer, she would have scoffed (all while blushing).

Jaime helped removed her clothing then slipped his hand between her legs. Brienne gasped then scowled at his teasing smile.

Growling, she grabbed the back of his head and hauled him up. He nuzzled his face into her neck, shuddering when he sucked on her earlobe. His kisses led down her neck and back to her jaw.

"You may call me Renly if you like," he murmured.

"No." Brienne locked eyes with him. "I'll call you Jaime."

Then he was inside her. It was uncomfortable, but not unpleasant. Jaime bucked his hips, piercing Brienne's maidenhead with one long stroke. He did it again and again when finally, he hit this one spot which made Brienne cry out. He gripped her hips and fucked her harder. Her dreams about Renly didn't even compare to this.

Suddenly, Jaime groaned and pulled himself out. Brienne reached her peak just as Jaime spilled his seed on her belly.

"Jaime..." she breathed, gazing at him.

"Wench." He grinned when Brienne slapped his arm. "Get dressed, my lady. We should return to our camps before sunrise."

_Did that truly just happen?_ Brienne asked herself.

**.**

Two months. Two months had passed since they've been in Pentos. Daenerys was determined to tame her dragons with only small successes. Drogon was the hardest, the most wild out of her children.

Restless, Dany decided to have a meeting her council.

"I'm ready," she told them.

"I beg your pardon?" Tyrion Lannister stared at her as if she had grown another breast.

"I want to conquer Westeros _now_," Dany repeated. "We need to think of strategies. Ser Barristan, do you have any ideas?"

The old man was silent before asking Magister Illyrio for a map. A slave of his fetched one and Ser Barristan unrolled it onto the table. Dany peered at it.

"Oldtown is the one of the largest cities. If we captured it first, plenty of great houses and small would join forces with you."

"An excellent point," she said, giving Selmy smile. "Highgarden is there as well. They sided against my father, did they not?"

"And with my sister as well," the dwarf added. "They're opportunists, Your Grace. If they saw your dragons, they'd bend the knee instantly."

_Opportunists. I'm not sure if I should trust them_, thought Dany. Her eyes rested on the the North where Winterfell and the Wall was drawn. Her heart quickened and she cleared her throat.

"What about the North?" she questioned.

Ser Jorah's eyes widened before speaking. "Your Grace. My father, he's the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. If we go forth to the Wall, we could convince him to join our cause."

Dany resisted the urge to throw her arms around him and embraced him. Before she could respond, Tyrion ruined her happiness.

"The Night's Watches are neutral when it comes to war," he pointed out.

"... My father will agree if I say I'll join the Night's Watch," Mormont replied, frowning.

"I'll pardon you," Dany promised. She didn't miss the way he stared at her, like she was the love of his life. "Do you believe that the Ironborn will join as well?"

Tyrion hesitated. "They may or may not. Balon Greyjoy is dead and his heir Theon is missing. King Crabs' brothers might follow you."

She knew what he meant. _I'd have to seduce them unfortunately_, she thought, _or just show up riding Drogon_.

For a long time, they discussed different strategies until finally agreeing on one. Dany allowed herself to smile. She was getting closer and closer to discovering the boy from her dreams.

**.**

Jon had to put an end to this or more men would die. They had no idea of Wun Wun's strength. _A horn, I need a horn_. He saw the glint of steel, turned toward it.

"No blades!" he screamed. "Wick, put that knife..."

... _away,_ he meant to say. When Wick Whittlestick slashed at his throat, the word turned into a grunt. Jon twisted from the knife, just enough so it barely grazed his skin. _He cut me_, Jon thought, shocked.

"For the Watch." Wick slashed at him again.

More men slashed and stabbed him. One pierced his belly. Jon fell to his knees and reached the hilt, wrenching it free. "Ghost," he whispered. Pain washed over him. Another knife stabbed him in the shoulder blades, making him fall face-first into the snow.

Just as the darkness came over, Jon heard a ferocious roar.


	9. chapter nine

**chapter nine**

After packing, both Tyrion and Ser Barristan suggested that she wear warm clothes. She wore a long-sleeved dress that matched her eyes, a fur-lined hooded cloak, and knee-length, fur boots the color of snow. Her handmaidens flocked about her, feeding her compliments about her lovely clothes as well as begging for her to stay on the ship with them.

"I'm sorry, sweetlings, but I must ride Drogon to the North," Dany told them before kissing each on their cheeks.

Tyrion was waiting for her by Drogon. Rhaegal and Viserion waited impatiently, ready to fly. A took a fortnight for Illyrio to create three saddles for her dragons. Two slaves have burned just from attempting to measure her dragons. They agreed to ride Drogon together since Dany didn't know much of the land in Westeros.

Climbing on her black dragon, she helped Tyrion up and he sat behind her. "Hold tight," instructed Dany, looking over her shoulder.

"Oh, I will." Tyrion wrapped his arms around her waist eagerly.

Daenerys chuckled and took her first flight.

**.**

The cold wind hit Dany in the face. Her tan had faded and returned back to her fair complexion. She made only two stops, both for Drogon. He would search for food while Dany and Tyrion would find a nearby inn.

Her eyes widened when she saw the Wall. It was massive and made of ice. Dany tugged the reins and felt her stomach drop as they lowered.

"That's Castle Black," said Tyrion, peering from behind her. Drogon landed near a fortress, it consisted of several stone towers and timber keeps.

Thousands of men dressed in black garbs stood still at that moment. Daenerys would have laughed at their awed expressions and slid off of Drogon. She glanced at all of them before her eyes landed on a man laying on his stomach in the snow. His Black brothers stood around him with daggers in their hand.

The Dragon Queen helped her Hand down before approaching the one in the snow. No one said a word, all still in shock over seeing a dragon. Men moved aside from her, all flinching when they heard the screeches of her other children finally arriving.

Dany stood straighter and spoke in the Common Tongue, "What has happened?" _Everyone is terrified_, she realized then sighed. "_What_ has happened?" she repeated.

Two boys around her age and a little older pushed past the crowd. The smaller one looked ready to faint from the sight of the boy in the snow.

"M-My lady, a riot happened. T-The man in the snow is our Lord Commander Jon Snow," answered the bigger, shaggy-haired one.

"Jon Snow? What happened to Jeor Mormont?" Tyrion questioned as Dany dropped to her knees and gingerly rolled the man onto his back.

_It's you. I know it's you_, thought Dany, nearly gasping. It was him, she couldn't be mistaken. Her heart almost jumped out of her throat when she noticed the multiple stab wounds he suffered. Just like that one awful dream she had.

She realized that all eyes were on her. Dany rose and met everyone one of these Black brother's stares. She couldn't announce that she planned on hanging all of the men responsible for this, they outnumbered her. Her sellswords wouldn't be arriving to the Wall until a day or so since they reached the White Harbor days ago.

_It does not matter. The boy from dreams is real and now he's _dead, Dany thought miserably. She squared her shoulders and tried to look indifferent. "Anyone who still has honor will lock themselves in a cell for now," she suggested.

"And why should we listen to you?" A stupid one shouted.

Dany stifled her laughter and gestured to her dragons. "Drogon, Rhaegal, Viserion..." they all looked at her, ready to spit fire. "I take it you would rather be my children's meal for the day?"

No one uttered a word after that.

"Queen Daenerys," called an sonorous voice. A tall and pale woman with a long, sheet hair the color of burnished copper dressed in red stood out against all the men. She was pretty, but there was something _off_ about her.

"Who are you?" Daenerys inquired.

"Melisandre. I'm an adviser for King Stannis," she answered then frowned at the boy in the snow. "Do you know Lord Snow?"

"No."

"He's Ned Stark's bastard," her Hand informed her. Dany didn't even register what he had said, only watching Melisandre.

"Can you save him?"

"I can, but I must give him the kiss of life. I warn you, he'll never be the same."

Dany narrowed her eyes. "You are a _maegi_, aren't you?"

Melisandre had the nerve to smile. "A priestess of R'hllor, Your Grace."

"The last person who practiced magic around me _burned_ to death. I suggest you use your sense and not attempt anything," Dany warned. That only made the red woman's smile broaden.

She crouched down beside the boy from her dreams (_Jon Snow_). Her lips touched his and his fingers twitched. Her heart quickened and she finally realized what Tyrion meant when Jon Snow's eyes opened briefly.

Grey, like Eddard Stark's.

**.**

Her Grace's army finally arrived. Jon Snow was alive much to everyone's amazement, but he suffered from a fever. They managed to find a decent maester to treat the young man's wounds which they did with ease.

Tyrion had many questions after watching Daenerys's actions during the whole encounter. She looked like absolutely wretched just from seeing how hurt and dead the Bastard of Winterfell was. It wasn't as if she was in love with him. No, they never met, it couldn't be possible.

_Why save the bastard of the man who took part in your father's fall?_ He wondered while nursing a cup of ale.

His thoughts drifted to the Queen's bear. When one of the Black brothers revealed to him that his father was murdered by his own men, he had confined himself to his rooms. Tyrion wondered if that's what Jaime did when they found their father lying dead in the privy.

Daenerys actually spent an entire day in his chambers, comforting him. Rumors sparked that she was fucking him, but Tyrion doubted it. Not after seeing the way she nearly lost it when she found Jon Snow.

"It doesn't make sense," Tyrion said aloud then sipped his ale.

The worse thing about staying at the Wall was that news came late. He had no idea what was going on in King's Landing. That didn't matter, not with the Queen preoccupied in trying to gain allies.

He'd serve his Queen faithfully, even when it was time to kill his sister and her twin. O_h Jaime, don't be a fool. Go east before she searches for you_, he thought with a sigh.

**.**

Jon Snow thought he had died.

His body ached, stiff and tender. It took some strength just to lift his arms and rub his bleary eyes. When his vision cleared, he saw the bandages all over his body. Jon was still confused. Why had his sworn brothers tried to murder him? "For the Watch," they repeated as they pierced him with their daggers.

"You're awake." Jon looked to his left and couldn't believe what he saw.

A girl, no older than sixteen, was seated beside his bed. Her hair was silver-gold, her long-lashed eyes amethysts, and her body petite but womanly. She had a breathtaking beauty, one that was exotic and extraordinary. Not even Queen Cersei or his pretty sister Sansa compared to her.

_She looks familiar_, Jon thought then tried to sit up. The girl touched his shoulders gently, but pushed him back.

"You mustn't. You'll open your wounds," she told him. "Do you need me to fetch a maester?"

"Who are you?" he blurted out. "This is no place for a woman, my lady. Did anyone hurt you?"

The girl smiled, a sad one. "My name is Daenerys," she said softly. "They tell me that you're the Lord Commander. Why did your men kill you?"

_So I did die_, Jon thought.

He hesitated before telling Daenerys all that happened. About Ramsay Bolton, his sister Arya, breaking his vows (though not the time with Ygritte), his home. Winterfell was burned thanks to Theon Greyjoy. He and Theon were never on good terms, the older boy envious of him for no apparent reason, but Jon would never think to hear that his father's ward would murder his foster brothers.

Her expression would shift from sympathy to disgust whenever he mentioned Ramsay Bolton. Jon glanced down when she took his hand in hers. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but the door opened and Tyrion Lannister of all people was there. He looked uglier than before with his grisly scar.

"Your Grace, the Lady Selyse Florent wishes to treat with you," he said then looked at Jon. "Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah are waiting as well."

"All right." Daenerys reluctantly let go of Jon and left the room. "Are you coming, Lord Tyrion?"

"In a moment. I'd like to speak to Lord Snow," Tyrion replied. After she left, Tyrion shut the door behind him and waddled towards Jon's bed. "Bastard."

"Imp." Jon couldn't help but smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Serving Queen Daenerys," he answered then grinned at Jon's face. "You didn't know? That's Daenerys Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, _Khaleesi_ of the Great Grass Sea, called Daenerys Stormborn, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons."

"A queen..." Jon echoed, "How long was she in here?"

"She never left your side. Her Grace has taken a queer liking to you." Tyrion sat in Daenerys's vacant seat.

Jon wrinkled his brows. "You said 'Mother of Dragons'. There are no such thing."

The dwarf's grin could have ripped his face in half for how wide it was. "I'll tell you a story, bastard. After her horselord husband died, she burned his body. Jorah Mormont told me that she also burned a _maegi_ alive as well. Apparently, the _maegi_ murdered her unborn child. Daenerys took her three dragon eggs and walked into the fire and birthed dragons."

"I know that news reaches the Night's Watch late, but I'm surprised no one mentioned the rumors. Back in King's Landing, we all ignored them, but when I went to Pentos... well, I saw the dragons for myself. I even rode one!"

"You didn't," Jon hissed. "Is this some sort of jape? Do you take me for a fool? There are no such things as dragons..." He paused, remembering the wights and the Others. If the Others were real then dragons were possible.

"I suppose you'd like to see Her Grace's dragons. _Her children_ she calls them," Tyrion said while getting out of his chair. "Jon?"

"Yes, my lord?"

"If you try to take Queen Daenerys into your bed, I don't think she'll stop you."

Jon's face flushed. He could hear Tyrion's laughter as he left his room. _He's a fool_, he decided.

**.**

Stannis Baratheon's wife was not a particularly attractive woman. Her mouth was stern and her voice like a whip. She also looked none too pleased to meet Daenerys who wore her three-headed dragon crown.

They sat in the King's Tower along with the Selyse's council and Daenerys's own council. Melisandre was with them as well, standing near the burning brazier.

"Your lord husband, where is he?" Dany asked.

"_King_ Stannis is marching to Winterfell," answered Selyse Florent. "He plans on retaking it from Roose Bolton's bastard."

"I heard about him. He sounds atrocious," Ser Barristan spoke.

_From what Jon Snow told me, he is_, Dany thought. She wanted to laugh or cry from the irony of it. The daughter of the Mad King hopelessly in love with Eddard Stark's bastard. It reminded her of Rhaegar and Lyanna. Would the kingdom bleed once more if Daenerys decided to make Jon hers?

She blinked after noticing that everyone was waiting her response. "Beg pardons. Are we still discussing Ramsay Bolton?"

Ser Barristan shook his head. "No, Your Grace. The lady Melisandre suggested that you should join forces with Stannis."

"I once believed that Stannis was Azor Ahai reborn, but when I finally saw your dragons..." the red woman said.

"You are mistaken!" Selyse stood up abruptly. "Stannis wields Lightbringer. You said that he was Azor Ahai."

"I am mistaken," Melisandre admitted. "Daenerys is the one, born amidst salt and smoke. The dragons prove it."

Her brother Rhaegar said the same thing to her in a dream. '_What matters is that you, Daenerys Stormborn, will deliver the world from darkness with fire and blood_'. Rhaegar believed that she was the prince that was promised while Melisandre thought her to be Azor Ahai reborn. Were they related?

Why couldn't she just be Daenerys Targaryen? Wasn't the Mother of Dragons enough? She wished to be known as herself, not some hero reborn or a promised prince. Though, she wouldn't have minded being remembered as a savior.

Dany sighed and straightened her spine. "Why should I ally myself with the Usurper's dog?"

"Stannis is a just and honorable man, Your Grace," Ser Barristan answered. "He's already rallying the North who are willing to join his cause. You'll have a bigger army."

"Send a raven to him then," Dany finally responded then got up. "Lady Selyse, you have a daughter don't you?"

Her eyes widened. "What do you plan on doing with her?"

_She thinks I'm going to feed her to the flames_. "I've always loved children. Introduce her to me."

It was no question. Dany ordered everyone to stay back as she and the tall woman walked to her daughter's chambers. A homely girl of one-and-ten was playing with a fool tattooed in motley by the brazier. Selyse introduced her as Shireen.

Shireen was a sad little girl who was afflicted with the greyscale. If her handmaidens saw her, they would have called her a monster. Dothraki were smart when it came to their horses, but in other matters they were rather ignorant.

"You're the lady with the dragons!" exclaimed Shireen. "I saw you arrive from my window. Mother, do you think I could ride one? Please?"

"Of course. Only if your mother consents," Dany said, smiling. Shireen scrambled to her feet and ran to her mother, taking her hand and begging.

"You may," Selyse conceded. "She won't ride that dreaded one will she?"

"Drogon? I am his dragonrider," she answered then smiled at Shireen. "She will be safe with me."

**.**

Due to Melisandre's kiss of life, Jon's wounds healed faster. He still wore his black garbs and presumed his duty as Lord Commander much to everyone's confusion.

When Daenerys presented him all the men who killed him, Jon unsheathed Longclaw and asked for a block.

"Are you sure you're well enough to do this?" she asked him.

"My father always said that 'the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword'."

Satin returned with a block and Jon begun his day-long execution.


	10. chapter ten

**chapter ten**

Jaime was completely glad that he and his garrison finally reached the Vale. Snow fell lightly, dampening his golden hair. The soft curls were growing as well as the stubble on his cheeks. The last time he shaved was when he and Brienne...

_Seven save me,_ Jaime thought as they rode to the Gates of the Moon. He felt pity for the ugly wench and wanted to be drunk enough to take her maidenhead. Not that Jaime didn't enjoy it. He swelled in the fact that he had been where no man had gone before. Unlike Cersei whom he was forced to share with that oaf Robert. _You poor stupid blind crippled fool. Must I spell out every little thing for you? Very well. Cersei is a lying whore, she's been fucking Lancel and Osmund Kettleblack and probably Moon Boy for all I know._

Brienne couldn't hide her affection for Jaime. She would stare at him until he looked at her, making her blush and turn away. He didn't have the patience for such things. It almost made Jaime laugh at how _girlish_ she could be despite her ambition to be a knight.

"Ser Jaime!" Littlefinger was surprised to see them. "May I ask, what are you _doing_ here?"

"I lifted the siege in Riverrun. I thought that I'd see how our former Master of Coin was handling his new lordship," Jaime explained then glanced back at his garrison. "We do not mean to impose, but if you do not mind we stay for some days."

Baelish smiled. "You aren't imposing on anything. You and your men are most welcomed. Let me call some people to help you all get settled."

After settling in his chambers, which were right beside Brienne's, Jaime changed out of his armor and into finer clothes, red and gold like his House colors. A gentle knock was heard from his door.

Opening it, Jaime was surprised to find a young, beautiful girl. Tall and lithe, she had high cheekbones, long and thick, rather dull brown hair, and blue, blue eyes. Her figure was womanly despite her age. He was startled at how much her beauty affected him. _So unlike my twin yet prettier than the Maiden herself_, he thought.

"My lord father wishes for you and your lady to dine with him," announced the girl softly. "I am to show you to his chambers."

"Brienne of Tarth is no lady of mine," said Jaime, "Your name?"

"Alayne Stone, ser."

Alayne casted her eyes downwards, afraid to meet his gaze. She looked familiar, but Jaime couldn't put his finger on it. The hair was throwing him off, maybe she dyed it? He shook off his suspicions, having more important things to worry about.

**.**

Jon Snow was rereading the letter from Ramsay Snow when Barristan the Bold entered his chambers. The man was old, but Jon didn't doubt for a second that Barristan could defeat him in single combat.

"Queen Daenerys wishes to speak to you in her chambers," said Ser Barristan.

"Are we discussing anything specific?" questioned Jon, wondering what the Bride of Fire possibly wanted with him. He had avoided her after executing all the brothers who murdered him. Stannis's wife was none too pleased to have her around, her title as queen removed quickly as Daenerys arrived mounted on her black dragon.

"I believe she wants to confirm the rumors about white walkers," the Lord Commander of the Queensguard replied.

"With dragons and direwolves... I think anything is possible."

"So do I, Lord Snow."

Jon walked alongside Selmy, hoping he wouldn't encounter the red woman again. She failed him too many times, but also felt stupid around her. Melisandre _had_ warned him of betrayal, but Jon had been too foolish to listen.

Queen Daenerys had taken residence in the Lord Commander's Tower since Queen Selyse resided in the King's Tower. Not that the younger queen minded. "I do not need a tower to tell me that I am the rightful queen," she had proclaimed boldly. Jon had nearly laughed at the expression on Selyse's face.

They reached the Lord Commander's quarters in short time, Jon ignoring the stares he received. The wildlings had been shocked when he came back to life while his black brothers were wary of his presence with the exception of Pyp and Grenn. "Your death brought the most beautiful woman in the world to this shithole," jested Pyp, obviously taken with Daenerys's beauty while Grenn agreed enthusiastically.

Ser Barristan opened the door to Daenerys's quarters for Jon, but stayed outside. He was wondering why until he turned and found her soaking in the bathtub. Her fair complexion was pink from the water and one of her handmaidens was combing her long silvery hair.

"Lord Snow," Daenerys greeted, oblivious to the situation. "Make yourself comfortable. I will be done in a moment."

"Did you... did you want me to leave?" Jon tried to focus only on her face. It wasn't too hard, her face was lovely.

"Why?" She stood up, water trickling down to the apex of her thighs and beading on her small but firm breasts. Jon could feel his face burn and his cock grow half-erect. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

He didn't answer her. He _couldn't_ answer her. Jon hadn't seen such perfection since Ygritte. She made his silence worse by squeezing the water out of her hair while one of her handmaidens patted her dry. _She's a widow of a_ khal, _of course she has no modesty_, Jon thought. He remembered Theon telling both he and Robb how the Dothraki fucked in public.

Daenerys slipped into a shift, giggling at whatever her handmaidens said in a language unfamiliar to Jon. She gestured for Jon to sit at the table nearby, having two cups of wine filled for them. Men would have killed to be in Jon's position, drinking and seeing the Dragon Queen's naked body.

"Tell me about these... white walkers," Daenerys implored before sipping from her cup.

So Jon did. He told her about the Battle of the First Men, the wight that attacked Jeor Mormont's chambers, Sam's theory on dragonglass. She listened intently and Jon thanked the old gods that she believed him. Stannis had been the only one who believed him out of all the kings.

That prompted Jon to ask her, "Will you help us? Fighting the Others are more important than the Iron Throne. Ignoring this- "

"There will be no Iron Throne. I understand, Lord Snow," Daenerys said, "Show me one and I will help you without a moment's hesitation."

Jon felt relieved. The thought of Others attacking the Wall frightened him as well as the thought of those dead things finding Arya. His jaw clenched from the thought of his sister, married against her will to Ramsay Snow.

He was about to take his leave when Daenerys stopped him. She almost appeared shy.

"I noticed that you kept wildlings here, feeding and protecting them. You and I share the same views. I wanted to free the slaves in Slaver's Bay, but..." she trailed off.

"Your birthright."

"... Yes."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Then Jon remembered what she did for him. "I give you my thanks. You revived me."

Daenerys's cheeks were tinted pink. "Not me! That was Melisandre. I only insisted that she save you."

"But why?" Jon inquired, suddenly curious. "We do not each other and from what history has told us, my father helped remove your family from ruling the Seven Kingdoms."

"Some other day," she murmured, "Some other day I will tell you why. For now, goodnight."

Jon left, inclining his head at Ser Barristan before heading back to his own chambers. He stumbled backwards when he crashed into someone dressed in armor. When he looked up, Jon recalled that it was Jorah Mormont. Many called him "the Queen's bear."

"Do you not look where you are walking?" Ser Jorah scowled at him.

"Beg pardons," Jon replied coolly. Ser Jorah looked down where his sword was sheathed. _Longclaw_.

"May I see your sword? It looks familiar," the burly man asked gruffly.

He silently unsheathed Longclaw, his lips pulling into a half smile when he saw the snarling wolf's head on the pommel. When Jon looked up, he felt goosepimples crawl up his skin from the ferocious look Ser Jorah directed to him.

Jon's face fell when he remembered. Jorah was Mormont's only son. _This belonged to him once_. His thumb rubbed the pommel, feeling slightly guilty for taking the sword.

Ser Jorah frowned at Jon before muttering excuses to leave. Interesting night it was. Too bad Ghost was the only one he could tell it too.

**.**

Tyrion didn't know whether he should be pleased or try and convince Daenerys Stormborn that this venture wasn't worth her time. Unfortunately, Tyrion was one for supernatural things and wouldn't be much help in Ser Jorah's endeavor to rush Daenerys's quest in conquering the Seven Kingdoms and leave this freezing place. _First direwolves, then dragons, and now Others? What next, merlings?_ He wondered.

He reminded her that they couldn't leave just yet because they needed to treat with Stannis. Allying with Stannis would be a smart but difficult decision. The man was hard and just to the core. Tyrion pondered how Jon Snow dealt with him.

"How are you, my queen?" asked Tyrion.

"Burning. Burning with impatience," replied Daenerys, "Are you sure you wish to accompany us?"

"I held my own in battle before," the dwarf said, eager to see the species that hasn't been seen for eight thousand years.

"That explains how you defended your face so well," sneered Ser Jorah. A few snickers were heard from the Queen's sellswords.

Tyrion strained a smile. "At least I do not get mistaken for a bear."

It was childish, he knew, but everyone laughed with the exception of Mormont, Selmy, and Snow. Daenerys merely smiled and commanded that they march forward. Jon rode beside her silver mare, leading the way.

He watched with mismatched eyes, hoping to catch _something_ be said between the two children. Well, Daenerys was more of a woman now that she turned one-and-seven while Jon was still a boy with his clean shaven face. But Tyrion could see why Daenerys would fall into the arms of Jon Snow. He was no Jaime, but he was comely nevertheless.

_A bastard though. Her Grace must realize that her queer affection for the ice cold boy will never happen_, Tyrion thought. It was easy to forget that she was just a young girl. If something blossomed between the two, Ser Jorah would be more than committed to put an end to it or maybe Ser Barristan. The bear didn't know of subtlety when it came to his love for his queen.

They wouldn't be staying for a long time. Jon voiced his fears that another battle would occur. Dragonglass could defeat white walkers but fire could only kill wights. Hopefully Daenerys's dragons weren't hard of hearing.

**.**

"I never knew you had a daughter," Jaime said while reaching for his cup of wine. His golden hand knocked it over, but no one commented on it.

"Well, I never wished for her to come to court. You know how... baseborn children are treated," Petyr Baelish responded, smiling at Alayne. The girl was seated beside him, demure as ever.

"Your wife Lysa was alright with her here?" Brienne questioned, staring intently at Alayne.

"She welcomed her with open arms. Oh, the two would have had a wondertime together if it weren't for that bard," Baelish said, "It would have been nice if Cat met her."

"Cat?" Jaime repeated.

"Catelyn Tully." Littlefinger nodded.

Alayne lifted her head. "Stark," she blurted out. Everyone looked at her and she blushed. "She wed a Stark and should be referred as Lady Stark."

Jaime exchanged a look with Brienne. Alayne definitely resembled a younger, more beautiful Catelyn Stark. If it wasn't for her hair...

They didn't speak about the Tully sisters for the rest of dinner. Littlefinger kept the conversation light and friendly. Alayne neither spoke and seldom ate her food. Jaime had his fill and excused himself.

"Lady Alayne, if you would please show us to our rooms? I'm not too familiar with my surroundings and I know Ser Jaime isn't either," asked Brienne kindly. She ignored the dirty look Jaime sent her.

A pained look crossed Alayne's face but she nodded and kissed her father on the cheek before escorting her guests. Jaime thought he saw a flash of annoyance on Petyr's face, but the small man only smiled genially and wished them a good night's sleep.

Brienne reluctantly went into her chambers while Jaime backed Alayne into a wall, enclosing her with his arms. Her face flushed and she shook her head, stammering, "Ser Jaime... I am still a..."

Jaime chuckled and shushed her, placing his index finger to her rosebud lips. He stared at her, studying her face. Her eyes were wide, her skin reddening from her collarbones to her cheeks. A pretty, innocent thing she was. So unlike Cersei.

He trailed the outline of her face, his thumb resting on her bottom lip. "Are you Sansa Stark?"

She recoiled instantly, jerking away from Jaime's touch. "Of course not," she said, her voice colder than when Cersei denied him. "You are mistaken, ser."

"Well, if you _are_ Sansa Stark then I can assure you that I am not here to bring you back to my sister," Jaime said, holding her gaze. "I promised your lady mother that I'd bring you home safe and if we must head North, then we shall."

They stared, Jaime feeling something stir from within. Finally, the girl tore away her gaze and left wordlessly. Jaime watched her and knew for certain. _She_ was Sansa Stark, his last hope for honor.


	11. chapter eleven

**I am horrible at writing war scenes, so forgive me for this. I would rather just skip to the aftermath, but I'm sure you all will be disappointed. Anyways, enjoy :)**

**chapter eleven**

Jon held his hand out, motioning everyone to a halt. Only the sound of snow falling was heard as well as rustling. He touched the hilt of his sword, unsheathing it slowly. His horse was getting antsy.

Suddenly, a badly rotten wight appeared from the trees. Jon's eyes widened and cursed. They had no fire and the dragons were left at Castle Black. More and more wights followed.

"Sound the alarms!" screamed Jon, "Your Grace, you need to go back."

Before she could respond, her mare went wild. Daenerys tried to calm it, but ended up thrown to the ground. Jon grabbed her arm and hauled her up, hefting her up so she sat behind him.

Most of his men were retreating, learning their lesson from before while the Queen's sellswords readied themselves for battle.

"No, no, no! We cannot defeat them with steel! We need fire," Jon told them. He kicked his horse and rode farther away from the wights who were getting closer and closer to them.

It felt like the Battle of the First Men all over again. Clumsy as they were, those blue-eyed abominations managed to attack their garrison. Jon couldn't allow the Mother of Dragons to get hurt either.

Everything went fast. Their steel did nothing to stop the wights and Jon could see more men in black garbs falling to the ground. One chopped off hand grabbed his horse's leg, causing it to scream and trip. Jon hurried to put his legs on one side and grabbed Daenerys.

They jumped off the panicked horse, landing in the snow. Rolling around, she ended up on top of him. Her braid had loosened with some strands tickling his face. For a moment, Jon forgot about the dangers around them and only the woman practically straddling him. Her full lips were absolutely kissable.

Daenerys slid off him and looked up. Jon was distracted by a nearby wight. Longclaw would have to make due for now. He sliced off the wights limbs one by one, kicking them away as they crawled towards him.

"Drogon!" yelled Daenerys. She grabbed Jon roughly. "Tell your men to retreat _now_. I do not want Drogon burning them as well."

Jon nodded and screamed at his and Daenerys's men to retreat. They didn't hesitate after seeing the black dragon soaring above them. The Lord Commander was far enough from where the flames would hit, but was able to see the damage. The last thing he heard was Daenerys was shouting, "_Dracarys_."

As he watched, someone grabbed his shoulder. Jon turned and felt his jaw go slack.

"U-Uncle Benjen..."

Benjen Stark gave him a tired smile. "Hello, nephew."

**.**

Daenerys had tried to hide her affection for Jon Snow. She truly had, pushing back those feelings for him, but it was no use. She felt like a traitor for being half in love with the Usurper's dog's pup. Viserys would probably have slapped her until she bled if he could see her now.

Then the wights happened. When Jon forced them to get off his panicked horse and they fell in a blanket of snow, Dany sighed from the memory. She was glad he wore such thick clothes or else he could have felt her hardened nipples... Dany had long forgotten the wights.

_If he had taken me right there and then, I would not have cared_, thought Dany.

For the time she'd known the stoic boy, he never once revealed his emotions. Just embarrassment from when she stepped out of the bath, but Dany had felt particularly mischievous then. At least she knew he was still a man, and a _good_ man for trying to avoid staring at her body.

But when they were on the ground, Dany could see something in his eyes. As if he wanted her like she wanted him, but his mask came back on after they got up and Drogon arrived much to her disappointment.

The wights and dead bodies of the fallen crows were burned by Drogon's flames. His flames so strong that it warmed Dany up instantly despite standing away from where he was firing.

Afterwards, Ser Barristan rode up to her and helped her up. She didn't hold him like she did to Jon, only watching Drogon fly away. He was the most wild out of her children, restless in one place. It still stunned her that she managed to get to Castle Black with him.

"Are you alright, Your Grace?" her old knight inquired, sounding rightfully worried.

"I am. Thank the gods that Drogon came," she answered, giving him a smile. "We should hurry back. We have much to discuss."

**.**

The night after the attack, Stannis Baratheon finally arrived.

Barristan Selmy thought the man looked thinner and more jaded than the last time he saw him. His flame-like crown did not make him anymore kingly.

He stood to the side as Daenerys, Jorah Mormont, Stannis, his wife Selyse, Tyrion Lannister, and Lord Commander Jon Snow were seated at a table, a map placed in front of them. His blue eyes flickered to the King's Red Shadow. She stood by the brazier, staring into the flames.

"Why should I should ally myself with you?" demanded Stannis, "A girl _half-grown_ for that matter."

"I am only a young girl and know little of the ways of war, but even I'm willing to put aside our animosity. I have sellswords, dragons, and you have a larger army. We would end the war quick," replied Daenerys then fixed her face until it looked made of stone. "And I not just a _girl_. I am a widow of the great Khal Drogo, daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, and mother of dragons."

Stannis sat, stunned. Tyrion was grinning, or that's what Barristan thought it was. Selyse glowered at the young queen, pursing her thin lips.

"I will pardon you for playing a part in my father's fall," Daenerys continued, "I am willing to give you Storm's End after we win the war."

Daenerys had pride and confidence. She assumed that she would win the war. Though her pride didn't compare to a Lannister's. Barristan watched as Stannis regarded Daenerys carefully.

Tyrion glanced at the two before speaking, "Lord Stannis, you must be aware of how everyone thinks of you."

"I beg your pardon?" Selyse snapped.

"Everyone knows that you have a sense of duty and justice. It would be wrong if you took Her Grace's birthright," Tyrion said, ignoring the woman. "And yes, we all know you only rallied your armies because it was your duty to secede your brother's place, but you forgot about the dragon."

Minutes past, everyone anticipating Stannis's answer. When he begrudgingly agreed, Barristan knew it was because he was just to the core. It would have pained him to say no.

Daenerys smiled genially. "You can trust me, my lord. I promise on my brother's grave that I will not betray you," she said softly. "But we cannot fight the Lannisters just yet."

"... Why not?" Stannis asked, grinding his teeth.

"I promised Lord Snow that I would stay here and help him defeat the Others." Daenerys and Jon's eyes met, and they stared at each other as if no one else was in the room. With an effort, Daenerys looked down at the map.

_Jon. She loves Jon Snow_, realized Barristan.

He had seen it in her eyes when she looked at him, heard it in her voice when she spoke of him. Was he the true reason why she wished to stay here?

Barristan felt as if was the past repeating himself. Daenerys was Ashara Dayne and Jon was one of the Stark brothers. He couldn't allow this to happen again. All Daenerys would feel from this venture would be heartbreak.

"What?" Tyrion's tone was flat.

"You saw those _things_ too, Lord Tyrion. You know what we're dealing with. If we leave the Night's Watch alone with these things then the realm will perish and there will be no Iron Throne."

No one questioned Her Grace afterwards.

**.**

"Where's my horse?" asked Sansa Stark.

"You will share one with me," answered Jaime. He had a feeling that the girl wouldn't be as submissive as she seemed. Turning to Brienne, he said, "Make sure everyone is ready. I do not want to linger here any longer."

"I am not your maid, ser," hissed Brienne.

"No, you are most not." He smirked at her flushed face. When Brienne was out of sight, Jaime turned to the Princess of Winterfell. "You do not have many places to call home, my lady. I could take you back to Casterly Rock with your uncle if that is what you wish."

Sansa startled him with her response. "I wish to go North, Ser Jaime."

Jaime watched her, but could not decipher anything. Her face was made of stone. "Why? Winterfell is burned and the Bastard of Bolton stays there. I trust you do not wish to meet him."

"My brother Jon is at the Wall... he is all I have left."

He couldn't say no. The poor girl had suffered so much. _I promised Catelyn Stark that I'd bring her girls home, and I intend to keep it_, thought Jaime.

**.**

Jon headed to see his uncle in his old chambers. Benjen seemed thinner than before and had aged plentiful. He had changed out of his ragged garbs and into some newer ones. A maester was doing close examination on Benjen when Jon left to see the Dragon Queen.

"Uncle," he called, stepping in. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Where did you run off to?" asked Benjen.

"Queen Daenerys had need of me. She and Stannis Baratheon were discussing joining together and fighting for the same cause," Jon answered then realized his uncle had no idea what happened during his time missing. "Uncle, there is so much I need to tell you."

"Like why there are dragons?" Benjen raised his brows, but there was a spark of amusement in his blue eyes.

"This might take all night."

"Does your queen mind?"

Jon recoiled from the question. "My...? No, she is not my queen. The Night's Watch does not partake in politics or war."

"Exactly. So why are there people who proclaim to be kings and queens here at Castle Black?" his uncle questioned. He waved his hand dismissively. "Never mind. Please, Jon, tell me all things I missed."

**.**

Daenerys watched wordlessly as her dragons ate their late dinner. They had flown back with dozens of sheep in their mouths, burning it into charred meat. Rhaegal and Viserion ignored her as they ate while Drogon had disappeared since the attack of the wights.

Wildlings would come and go. Her dragons had built a lair in the ground, so deep that some mistaken it for an abyss. Tonight was different as they ate above ground. The wild folk were curious as should they be. Dragons had been extinct for over one hundred and fifty years.

"What are you doing out here?" Daenerys sat up straighter and turned around, finding Jon Snow. His direwolf trotted behind him, unafraid of the dragon scent. Likely because it was just as mystical as them.

"I could not sleep," she admitted, pleasantly surprised. "With all this war and woe, I do not spend as much time with my children."

"Your children?" Jon echoed, sounding vaguely amused.

"My dragons," Dany explained, "They practically are my children."

Gesturing for him to sit, Jon conceded and sat down beside her on the log. When their bodies touched for a moment, Dany's heart quickened. She hoped she wasn't frowning when Jon moved away from her.

She took this time for stare, though discreetly. His very image matched her dreams... except his eyes were always so guarded and intense while his entire face was somber, a smile rarely crossing his it. Locks of dark hair fell into his eyes and Dany was tempted to push them away. He looked up and caught her staring.

_I am such a fool_, thought Dany, _I've faced worse dangers yet I am afraid of this boy_.

His direwolf sniffed her, nuzzling his snout at her knees. Dany reached out and scratched behind his ears, giggling as he licked her. When she turned to face Jon once again, he was staring at her with bewilderment.

"Ghost is not usually this friendly..." he mumbled.

"A fitting name," Dany said, leaning closer to Ghost. She laughed softly when he nudged his wet nose at her and licked her cheek. "We should trade. I'll give you a dragon and you give me your direwolf."

Jon chuckled, a sweet sound to Dany's ears. "I think that is a disportionate deal, Your Grace."

Dany shrugged and continued rubbing Ghost's thick white fur. Viserion screeched before retreating to his lair while Rhaegal flew off into the darkness of the night. She yawned then blushed when she felt Jon's hard stare.

Suddenly and out of the blue, she said, "Dany."

"What?"

"You may call me Dany in private, Lord Snow... or Daenerys if that suits you better."

His pale face reddened though not as much as the night he saw her naked. "Daenerys..." he said, the name rolling off his tongue. "I suppose you may call me Jon."

"May I ask you a question, Jon?" A multitude of fantasies erupted in her mind. She needed to control herself more.

"Of course." He finally brushed the locks of hair out of his eyes. Even his hand was burned, just from her dream.

"Why did you resume your duty as Lord Commander?" Dany questioned. When he didn't answer, she continued, "Your vows say that you shall pledge your life to the Night's Watch, but your life ended when your so-called brothers murdered you. You owe them nothing."

Jon was silent for the longest time. Dany was beginning to regret asking him when he finally answered.

"I am just a bastard. I cannot own any lands or be able to father children. A bastard's bastards are lower than dirt and I do not wish that upon anyone. The Night's Watch is all I have... and I cannot leave without knowing that the white walkers are dead. The realm isn't safe with these things around."

"You are not truly a member of the Night's Watch as you have not said your vows in front of a heart tree," Dany pointed out. "So... you fight for the realm? Well, so do I. Why do you believe I agreed to help you?"

_You know why_, a voice in her head whispered.

He didn't look at her. Dany hoped she didn't drive him away. She traveled half the world _for him_. Those dreams had meaning, it was fate that they would meet.

If only Daenerys could tell him that.

Standing up, Dany was about to return to bed for another restless night when Jon blocked her. He was not as tall as Jorah or Barristan the Bold, but he still stood taller than her. His grey eyes searched hers, for what she did not know.

Her eyes widened when he knelt in front of her. "I swear fealty," he said, his voice deep. "What would you have me say, Your Grace?"

"... That you recognize me as your queen, that you fight only for me." Dany bent down and scooped a handful of snow. As Jon recited what she said, she dumped the snow on him.

Jon looked up, gaping at her. Dany had not laughed so hard in her entire life. He grabbed some snow and threw it at her. She yelped from the cold and heard some snickers. She tried to glare at him, but couldn't. Not with Jon grinning at her, snow dampening his hair.

That's when they begun their battle.

Hours past until they both collapsed on the ground, tired and stomachs aching from laughing so much. Ghost ran in circles around them, leaping over their bodies at times. When all her giggles ceased, Dany turned her head. Her heart quickened considerably when he was already staring at her.

For a second, they stared, similar to the moment they had when treating with Stannis.

Her face heated up and she turned away the same time he did.


End file.
